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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26900677">You are (not) alone</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsChievous/pseuds/MsChievous'>MsChievous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020 [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV, Gen, Injury, Pre-Brotherhood (Final Fantasy XV), Self Confidence Issues, Whump</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:00:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,632</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26900677</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsChievous/pseuds/MsChievous</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Whumptober Day 8: Isolation</p><p>After Prompto receives the letter from Lady Lunafreya, he makes it his mission to improve himself so he can be a great friend to the prince, but some habits are hard to break.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020 [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949494</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>82</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>You are (not) alone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>ahhh whumptober is catching up to me XP I have another FFXV fic planned for tomorrow so hold me to that &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Prompto ducks into the stairwell and climbs the stairs to the roof, his bento box clutched tight to his chest. He manages to make his way to the top, pausing before the door to catch his breath before stepping through. He knows some of the delinquents like the spot that sits in the shade, so he makes his way over to the opposite direction, sitting with his back against the wall so he doesn’t have to think about how high up he is. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He digs into his pitiful lunch, imagining how fun it would be to be sitting here with a friend by his side. Probably more fun than digging through partially wilted lettuce and poorly chopped vegetables. But if he was to live up to Lady Lunafreya’s expectations, he needed to be someone who deserved that friendship. And what was a little sacrifice between friends?</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>October 25th is just another day to him after all these years of forgotten birthdays without his parents. It takes his teacher wishing him a happy birthday between passing periods for him to remember. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, thanks!” He responds nervously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have any special plans today? Going anywhere fun?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He worries his lip, wondering if he should lie or just tell the truth. “Oh, uh, yeah. My parents are taking me out for dinner and then we’re going to… we’re going to karaoke,” he manages to stutter out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that sounds delightful! I hope you enjoy the rest of your day!” She says as she walks away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah... “ Prompto murmured, “I will.”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The phone ringing is what wakes him up from his stupor. With a groan, he manages to peel his eyes open but quickly closes them against the daylight filtering through his blinds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wait. Daylight?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stumbles out of bed, tripping over his bedsheets and tumbling to the ground. The motion makes him feel ill, so he has to take a minute on the floor to just breathe through the nausea. By the time he gets up again, the ringing has stopped. Through heavily squinted eyes, he manages to make his way over to the home phone as the school secretary leaves a voicemail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t manage to catch the call before the voicemail ends but it’s only a minute before he manages to call back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Alius Middle School this is Versita how may I help you?” the secretary on the other line responds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh…. hi,” he manages. “I’s … it’s Prompto. S’rry I overslept ‘m coming…” he grits his teeth against the pain sparking behind his eyes and tries to concentrate on what she’s saying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Prompto, yes. A-are you sure you’re okay to come in? Pardon me for saying so but you sound positively dreadful. Could I talk with your parents?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Parents….Parents…. Oh. “N... no they’re out. Work.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, well, I can go ahead and mark you as sick in our system. Why don’t you go back to bed and sleep it off, okay?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prompto blinks, working through the words. “Oh… okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hopes his parents come home soon.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Prompto takes a deep breath, adjusting his wrist band and steeling his nerves. There he was, Prince Noctis. He had to get this right or it would all be for nothing.</span>
</p><p><span>He comes up from behind and slaps him across the back of the shoulder playfully. Pretend you’re confident, even if your knees are shaking. “Hey there Prince Noctis,” he says with a grin. “I’m Prompto, nice to meet you!”</span><span><br/></span> <span>Noctis looks him up and down wordlessly and for a long moment, Prompto’s sure he’s fucked up. But then the prince grins. “Don’t I know you already?”</span></p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Uh, I guess you do!” He replies, rubbing the back of his head with a nervous laugh. “What’s your first class?”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>In hindsight, taking a new running path was probably not the best idea, especially this close to dusk. An unfortunate step in a pothole left his ankle twisted and him in throbbing pain. He manages to hobble his way over to a park bench and sit down, though any weight he puts on his ankle immediately backfires into flaring agony.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls out his phone and shoots a text over to Noctis.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Prompto (9:42 pm) </em>
  </b>
  <b>Hey.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Prompto (9:42 pm) </em>
  </b>
  <b>You busy?</b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Prompto (9:44 pm) </em>
  </b>
  <b>If not can u call? If you are its nbd tho</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He waits for a while, praying that every buzz or notification was a text from Noctis saying that he was going to call, that he would be on his way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But a half an hour passes with no sign of the prince’s reply, so he shoves the phone in his jacket pocket and staggers to his feet… foot. He figures out a rhythm: hope a few times, steady with the opposite foot. Breathe through the pain, lather, rinse, repeat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stops every few minutes or so to lean against a wall or a lamppost, praying to have received some message from his friend, but… nothing</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s almost midnight before he manages to hobble through his front door. He takes one look at the stairs and decides that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> die if he tries to climb up them, so he makes his way painfully to the couch, falling asleep almost instantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next morning, he was woken not by his alarm, but by a pulsing, aching pain in his ankle. Though he wants nothing more than to fall into unconsciousness’ sweet embrace, the pain grabs him by the hair and pitches him violently into wakefulness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grips the side of the couch tightly, squinting through the burn. Any attempts to shift his lower half ends with him biting back a wave of nausea. He scrambles for his phone and sees that Noctis did indeed text him back a bit before 1 in the morning. What the sleepy prince was doing up at that time was anyone’s guess, but he wrote simply:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Noctis (12:51 am)</em>
  </b>
  <b> Shit sorry. You know how it is the royal shit.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Noctis (12:52 am)</em>
  </b>
  <b> unfortunately can’t be at your beck and call lol. u still need me to call?</b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Noctis (12:55 am)</em>
  </b>
  <b> ok sorry im going to bed see u tmrw.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He starts to text Noctis back that he might need help before he glances back at the messages. Noctis said “can’t be at your beck and call”... does he really think that way? That Prompto’s… needy? Is he just being polite to the pleb who thought he could befriend the prince?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His breath catches in his throat at the thought and he sleeps his phone. He’ll manage on his own, he always has.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>It isn’t until Prompto gets up to go to the bathroom and immediately passes out that he figures things might be a </span>
  <em>
    <span>bit</span>
  </em>
  <span> over his head. He scrabbles for his phone. The backlight pierces his retinas, but his eyes adjust slowly and he sees that he has unread messages from Noctis.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Noctis (11:26 am)</em>
  </b>
  <b> hey hope you’re not sick or anything.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Noctis (12:42 pm) </em>
  </b>
  <b>Wow you are OUT. is it related to yesterday?</b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Noctis (1:09 pm) </em>
  </b>
  <b>starting to get a little worried lol.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>You missed a voice call from Noctis at (1:58 pm).</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Noctis (2:14 pm) </em>
  </b>
  <b>If u don’t respond I’m bringing Iggy over.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He glances at his phone. It’s just past 2:30 now. He should just message the prince and tell him everything is okay, that he doesn’t need to worry. Then Noctis wouldn’t have to dote on him and feel obligated to give him attention. But the pain radiating from his ankle makes him want to be weak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he can make up his mind, there’s a knock on the door. He holds his breath as he manages to work himself to his feet. “C-coming!” he calls. Every little hop causes the pain to jolt further and further up his leg. He leans against the nearby wall and calls out. “Uh, it’s open! Come- you can just come on in!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door swings open and Noctis steps through, glancing from side to side before catching his gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Prom, you feeling o- ohh my gods what happened to your ankle?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blond glances down. He hadn’t really gotten a good look at it since he had twisted it, but it was currently the rough size of a grapefruit, discolored an angry purplish-red. “I-I sprained it, I think. I was just gonna call an ambulance or something,” he says sheepishly, wilting under Noctis’ disbelieving stare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“H-here, Iggy’s just outside, we can take you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine,” he replies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The hell you are,” Noctis grumbles, stalking closer. “You couldn’t even answer the door.” He grabs one of Prompto’s arms and wraps it around his shoulder, steadying the blond. “Come on, nice and slow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prompto does his best to bite down on the little gasps and hisses as Noctis does his best to maneuver him to the car while Ignis looks on in mild concern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you quite alright?” The advisor asks as Noctis slides Prompto in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just twisted my ankle running last night and it’s been getting worse. If it’s too much trouble, I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It happened last night?” Noctis interrupted, clambering in beside him. “Wait, is that what you texted me about? Fuck, Prom, I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prompto waves the concern away. “It’s fine, you were right. It’s not your job to wait on me hand and foot. I can handle things on my own if you need me to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Noctis looks confused and a little hurt. “I don’t mind. I’d rather you annoy me than let you suffer if I could help it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blond blinks at him. “Oh,” he says. “I-I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe… just maybe… he wasn’t as alone as he thought.</span>
</p><p> </p>
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